Not So Bad

Growing up,
We always thought,
‘I hate this place’,
‘Australia is boring’,
Not like the land
Of freedom,
With bald eagle soaring,
Looking back, willful ignoring,
Of all the things
We took for granted.
Perhaps I felt lonely
In primary, with eyes slanted,
Or as the other kids put it –
‘ronery’, with only
My ‘flied lice’ as company.
But it wasn’t so bad,
We had not much reason to be sad,
And even less of a reason to be mad.

But still,
We had food on the table,
Maybe with heat stifling,
But no midnight rifling,
For being gay,
Or of the opposition,
From those whose mission
To find heaven,
Down the barrel of an AK-47,
Or perhaps in the lives,
Of eleven,
Innocent Citizens,
Throw them from the tower,
Watch them cower, stripped power,
Anger and hate spill sour,
Blood runs curb like a flood,
Throw them to the mud,
And swine,
Their being is their crime,
Revolution is now the time.

But still,
At least we had medicare,
Soaring eagle doesn’t really care for fair,
Tragedies and travesties,
Not so rare,
A thousand tombs,
Build by the land of freedoom,
Free doom, capitalism the saviour,
Crucify Maria and Javier,
Free doom, America the no. 1,
Free doom, free room for Treyvon,
Bodycam malfunction, file gone,
The system has guile,
Declare it mistrial,
Another man walks the long green mile.

It’s funny,
These words make me sad,
But also a little glad,
I guess we didn’t have it so bad.